Remember Me
by CrimsonFaeSorceress
Summary: [one shot] Ahren remembers his friend from the terrible voyage half a year earlier and begins to understand that he's not as alone as he thinks he is.


Okay, I was bored and listening to a bunch of sad music when I wrote this one-shot, and I just read a bunch of sad fics, too. I hope you guys like it. This is my first attempt to write Shannara fanfiction, so…yeah. Well, not really, because I wrote a lame one during class…but it doesn't count, because I didn't post it and I never finished it and…actually, I'm not making sense, so whatever. But this is my first attempt at writing angst, at least.

Oh, and just to let you people know, I haven't read The Voyage of the Jerle Shannara series for a while, even though I own a copy of the books, so some things might be wrong. Tell me if they are, please. I would greatly appreciate it.

I don't own Ahren, Ryer, Ahren's memories, the Westland, Drey Wood…those belong to Terry Brooks. However, I do believe I own Ahren's humble little home in the middle of Drey Wood…

* * *

Ahren stared out into the pouring rain from the balcony of his small home in the middle of Drey Wood. He saw nothing and felt nothing, not even the water that splashed lightly fell on his face and his body. His clothes were soaked from standing out in the rain for so long. But he didn't notice. He was far away with his thoughts, wandering through a haze of memories and pain.

He thought when he came home to the Westland, everything would be easier to bear. All of his painful memories would fade away as he was surrounded by what was familiar, and his new life would help him forget everything that happened. There would be no one to remind him of the tragedies that overwhelmed him during that terrible voyage, no one to talk about it, no one to bring it up ever again. He would have new things to worry about, and no time for the past. With nothing more than the past to remind him of all that had happened, his life would be as it used to be two years ago. Or as close as it could get living secluded in the middle of a peaceful grove.

They never did leave him, though. His life remained changed. All of it stayed with him. They followed him and always found a way into his thoughts, never to leave him alone. Time didn't make them fade.

Especially the memories of Ryer Ord Star.

Ryer. The elven seer who had entrusted him with all of her secrets, the one who had listened to his in turn and comforted him. The one who entrusted her life in him. The one that gave up her life for him so he would be able to return home again.

Memories of her haunted him relentlessly. When awake, they would find their way into his thoughts at every turn. At night, they would surround him and keep him from sleep. There was no escape. What had been between them never left him alone.

They had been on the opposite sides of society, one a royal prince and the other a despised and forlorn girl that had nothing but her magic. They had seemed unlikely to become acquaintances, much less close friends. But both were lonely and distanced by those around them. Both of them never knew whom to depend on. As they got to know all of those around them and went through more dangers, though, they began to depend on each other. Their search for Walker only brought them closer. They had been scared and desperate, and had only each other to depend on. The next series of events passed faster than they could keep up with. It was not long before they trusted each other with all of their secrets and fears. They had never spoken about it, though, because they never thought it would end so quickly.

One wrong turn was all it took. One wrong turn through a passageway had brought them straight into the hands of their enemies. Captured and unable to run, they took a desperate gamble to trick the Morgawr. It never mattered, though. In the end, she had lost her life to free Ahren.

Now he would never see her again. They would never be able to share memories anymore. "_Why?_" Ahren's mind cried out. _Why did you have to go, Ryer? Why?_

His sadness turned into frustration and anger. Why did he give up so easily? Why didn't he try harder to get her to come with him to safety? It was all his fault that she was gone. If he hadn't been so stupid to just jump for his chance at freedom and leave, she could have still been there with him. She could have been right beside him.

It would never be, though. She was gone now, and all because he hadn't thought of the consequences. She had been a close friend, maybe even more, and he had given up their relationship for a chance to escape the horror of what he had experienced. How much had she endured because of him? What he had seen and felt was nothing compared to her!

What difference would it make if he had stayed, though? Would they both have died, or would she have survived? It almost seemed impossible that the frail girl could have lived through as much as she had, much less more. Would she really have survived, even if he had stayed until she decided to come along?

A single tear of pain and frustration ran down the Elven Prince's cheek as an ache grew in his chest. Why couldn't the past just be rewritten so they could be together? He would give so much just to talk to Ryer once more. Even to see her in real life once more would be enough.

The pain became too much to bear. He staggered and fell to his knees, one hand gripping the balcony railing, the other grasping his chest. Instead of landing on the porch, he tripped down the stairs onto the wet grass. He slipped and slid and grabbed at the railing in an effort to stop himself, but he only managed to cut himself. He tried half-heartedly once more and grasped it with his right hand, the other sliding in the mud. He held onto the railing tightly as if it were his lifeline, so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He didn't care that he was bleeding. He didn't care that he was lying on wet grass and covering himself in dirt and muck. Squeezing his eyes closed, a sob escaped his chest. He pounded on the ground with his hand, sending mud flying in all direction with his still-fisted hand. _Please, Ryer! Come back! I need you!_

The rain began to come down harder as he stayed on the ground, crying soundlessly. As thunder crashed, he shouted hoarsely, "Ryer! Please! Where are you?" He continued to do so, and the lightning continued to flash and the lightning to crash, drowning him out. "Ryer! Come back!" he shouted.

It was not long before he could yell no more. He was hurting, hurting so much. And he was so tired. His eyes began to close, and he let go of the railing to fall upon the earth, exhausted. His mind drifted aimlessly.

* * *

He woke up the next morning from a dream of Ryer. The sun was up and shining on his face. He lay on his back, trying to remember what the dream had been about, surprised that he had not woken up until now. Nothing came to mind except that she had been there and that…

And that she had not haunted him as she had every other night.

But it had been nothing but a dream. Even though it had been so much easier to bear than the others, it was still nothing but a dream.

He sat up groggily, shading his eyes from the brightness of the sun and grabbing at the railing with his right hand to pull himself up. He was halfway up with his legs partially beneath him when he noticed that something was…different.

His right hand felt like there was something wrapped around it. He fell back down abruptly and stared at it. There was something around it: a clean bandage. Where had it come from? He dimly remembered hurting his hand last night, but who had come to help him? There was no one here in the Drey Wood.

_Ahren_, a voice whispered in the breeze. He froze.

It came again. _Ahren_.

"Ryer?" he whispered out loud, scarcely believing. He was afraid to speak louder, for fear that it might break the spell he was under.

_Ahren_, it whispered once more. _Remember me_.

"Ryer?" he whispered again. No answer came.

Instantly, he knew what had happened. What had happened last night might have been a dream, but not the type he thought it was. It was a sending. From Ryer, with the help of the mystic Walker. It was she that had bound his hand. She had heard him, and had come for him. She had heard his cries. He was not alone.

Still kneeling on the forest floor, he bent his head over his injured hand. _Thank you, Ryer, for coming back once more. Thank you for hearing me. I promise I will never forget you._

This time, he pulled himself up with renewed vigor. He knew he was alone no longer, and that he never had to think so. Ryer would always be with him in his heart.

_Thank you_.

* * *

Hope you liked it. The fic was supposed to be really sad and angsty except for in the end, which was supposed to be happier, but…oh, I don't know, was it? Review, please, and tell me what you think of it! 


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